Your support helps us preserve a great American legacy. Marshey came in and his weary eyes wandered about the room. I don’t believe you lost a dollar.”, Marshey reiterated weakly: “I lost a dollar.”, “Well,” said Hazen, “there’s no dollar of yours here.”, “It was to git medicine,” Marshey said. I could see the blood drain down from his forehead, down from his cheeks. • The spectator stares with half-caught breath, afraid to see and afraid to miss seeing the ultimate catastrophe. Hazen talked much of that child of his on the homeward way. He had taken her because her father could not pay his debts. He laid the gloves on the table and reached into an inner pocket of his torn coat and drew out a little cloth pouch and he fumbled into this and I heard the clink of coins. “A man would think you were personal manager of the weather. That was not the cut of Hazen Kinch. Your email address will not be published. “I was not sure you would go.”. Chosen as one of the best stories of 1919 I slid the door shut behind me. Men were freighting across to the islands with heavy teams. They were the dregs of society. I said little. Really helping with ways to keep my Senior Residents engaged during this COVID-19 Pandemic! Lived in a two-room cabin — it was little more — with his wife and his five children; lived meanly and pitiably, groveling in the soil for daily bread, sweating life out of the earth — life and no more. I wondered as I plowed my way down to Hazen Kinch’s farm whether God did indeed dwell among these hills; and I wondered what He thought of Hazen Kinch. The mare turned out of the barnyard and plowed through a drift and struck hard-packed road. The mare snorted and tried to rear back and Hazen clapped the butt of his whip across her knees. Though the Mills of God Grind Slowly, Yet They Grind Exceeding Small Yesterday, 10.1%; today, 10.2%. Hazen said: “What’s your business? A rendition of the story "they grind exceedingly small" by Ben Williams made by the 2nd group of english class of IV-1 Einstein in Pedro E. Diaz High School Completing the CAPTCHA proves you are a human and gives you temporary access to the web property. Doan took it and he said humbly: “Thank’e, sir.”, “Mind now,” he exclaimed, and Marshey said: “I’ll do my best, Mr. Kinch.”. Hazen rasped at this woman impatiently: “Well, I’m home! He pulled the mare’s head down and twisted the ear viciously. I saw the little twisted body there. I remember that it was becoming bitter cold and the sun was no longer shining. Do you want my stove to heat the town?”. I sat by the stove and watched him and considered. I looked at the sky and so did Hazen Kinch. As for myself, I am surprised. Halfway up the hill to my house I stopped to look back and all round. I stopped him in the road and I asked for the medicine. And I looked at Hazen Kinch. The arrangement saved firewood. He saw my glance and said angrily: “I’ve slept on the floor before.”. They would have cursed, cried out upon her. This expression comes from ancient Greek, translated as "The mills of the gods grind slowly, but they grind small." The steps climbed nearer; they stopped in the dim little hall outside the door and someone fumbled with the knob. On the way to the hotel I stopped for a cigar at the drug store. Still and silent and inscrutable. When he understood he told me. Dec 28, 2020. “Likely! Who would give you a dollar? He screamed! They inspected the floor; they inspected me; they inspected Hazen Kinch’s table, and they rose at last humbly to Hazen Kinch. When we crossed the bridge at the foot of the hill we could hear the brook playing beneath the ice that sheathed it. “No! I did not know what I expected but I felt the imminence of the fates. I would have thought that, by this time, the cult would have suffered a meltdown. I had some knowledge of storms. Picking apples in his orchard, he fell one October and broke his neck. Then he reached into the pouch again. Though the mills of God grind slowly; Yet they grind exceeding small; Though with patience He stands waiting, With exactness grinds He all. I saw that Marshey’s fingers moved stiffly; I could almost hear them creak with the cold. Damn you, Marshey, if your old farm was worth taking I’d have you out in this snow, you old scamp!”, Doan pleaded dully: “Don’t you do that, Mr. Kinch! mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small. A muscle in one cheek jerked and jerked and jerked at his mouth. “Hazen,” I asked, “are you going to town today?” “Yes, yes,” he said abruptly in his quick, harsh fashion. There was an ugly welt across her knees and some blood had flowed. His stories were adapted into movies like The Strange Woman with Hedy Lamarr and Adventure’s End, starring John Wayne. The woman was lean and frail; and she was afraid of him. And when I looked at Hazen Kinch I saw that he, too, was beginning to understand. Your email address will not be published. 287 ὀψὲ θεῶν ἀλέουσι μύλοι, ἀλέουσι δὲ λεπτά, the mills of the gods are late to grind, but they grind small. I thought long upon the matter of Hazen Kinch before sleep came that night. 1 decade ago. Sep 18, 2018nbsp018332in they grind exceeding small, a miserly lender goes about his cynical existence until he meets a shocking, ironic fate. “If there were any backbone in the man he would not be paying me 80 dollars a year on a 500-dollar loan — discounted.”, “Besides,” Hazen continued, “he lied to me. Delhi is a stronghold of communists and pseudo liberals and yes many gundas also joined that time just to steal. Representative of his early short fiction, "They Grind Exceedingly Small," an ironic parable, appeared in the Saturday Evening Post in 1919 and later earned Williams the O. Henry Memorial Award. That jerking, suppressed smile upon his white and tortured countenance was terrible. Read reviews from world’s largest community for readers. “I wanted to ask after my boy.” His eyes expanded, he rubbed his hands a little, cackling. We made good time. There was a feeling of storm in the air. It grew—a Shape arrayed in mail: Brighter than the viper’s scale, And upborne on wings whose grain: Was as the light of sunny rain. thanks for putting this up, I read this in a collection years ago (more than 20 years) and to this day, i cant get enough, indeed: I knew now that a just and brooding God dwelt among these hills. I was interested in the man and in that which should come to him. There was not another man within 40 miles to whom he would have given that invitation. In “They Grind Exceeding Small,” a miserly lender goes about his cynical existence until he meets a shocking, ironic fate. Today I was attempting to shoot smoke trails. Hazen was sitting with the table between him and the man and I was a little behind Hazen at one side. Subscribe and get unlimited access to our online magazine archive. He did not know. He laughed crookedly, jerking at the trace. He became white as death itself. I had often wondered whether his love for the child redeemed the man; or merely made him vulnerable. Marshey was there, talking with the druggist. “They Grind Exceeding Small” (story from my file) theshepherdspresence ♦ January 6, 2016 ♦ 1 Comment. She feared and she hated Hazen. Do Some Magic! I’ve been stung too often.”, “I didn’t ‘low you’d figure to trust me,” he agreed. Look at them, one by one, and see for yourself. Something dropped out of the mouth of the little cloth bag and fell soundlessly on the table. He said: “Howdy, Mr. Kinch.” And he smiled in a humble and placating way. The biologist would have called him a sport, a deviation from type, a violation of all the proper laws of life. There was an evil malevolence in his baby eyes. His hands were blue. It was not much of an office; not that Hazen could not have afforded a better. He guessed what I would have said and he answered me before I could speak. Her hoofs beat a swift tattoo; our runners sang beneath us. It must have been in her arms when we came in. No, sir.” His eyes once more wandered about the room. He would not have done it for you. When he lifted his hand the money — if it was money — was gone. 25th, 2012 11:52 pm. A fine boy!”. I said nothing, and in his cracked old voice he mumbled endearments to the baby. Automobiles had beaten a rough road along the course the steamers took in summer. He lived a little beyond Hazen on the same road. But it was up two flights — an attic room ill lighted. We saw once where a fox had pinned a big snowshoe rabbit in a drift. Yet they grind exceeding small. “Eleven-fifty. If he can’t take care of his own money — that’s why he is what he is.”, “Am I a fool?” Hazen asked me. It was not impossible. He seemed to find a mocking sort of pleasure in my company. They Grind Exceeding Small. When the sleigh was upright Hazen went forward and stood beside the mare. But what he did was to repeat — as though he had not heard her words — the question which he had flung at her in the beginning. I’ve been too slack with you.”, Marshey, his dull eyes watching Hazen write the receipt, was folding the little pouch and putting it away. I kept my eyes all but closed, but there was so much beauty abroad in the land that I could not bear to close them altogether. The woman had been keeping it warm with her own body. But — a deeper impulse held my hand from the man. Become a Saturday Evening Post member and enjoy unlimited access. The stablemen had tended the welt, and cursed Hazen in my hearing. Mississippi-born and Dartmouth-educated Ben Ames Williams published 38 novels and nearly 400 short stories in his lifetime, many of the latter appearing in The Saturday Evening Post. He was shrunken now and very white and very still. Cloudflare Ray ID: 611fe4fa4f73d90d I telephoned down the hill to Hazen Kinch. The mare was a good animal, fast and strong. His body was contorted, his face was terrible. But I did not think we should drive home that afternoon. There was within the barn the curious chill warmth which housed animals generate to protect themselves against our winters. 1 through 30 I might have interfered, but something had always impelled me to keep back my hand from Hazen Kinch. He drew out two quarters and laid them on the table before Hazen, and Hazen picked them up. Certainly I was the only man who had in any degree his confidence. Though Hazen pushed her, we were slow in coming to town and before we reached Hazen’s office the snow was whirling down — a pressure of driving, swirling flakes like a heavy white hand. Please enable Cookies and reload the page. And for many Hindus who did the butchering, there were countless others who risked their lives and those of their families to actually protect and save Sikhs. One pundit sees Trump as mad Captain Queeg. It is easy to believe that a brooding God dwells upon them. “Eleven dollars and 50 cents,” said Doan. She said: “I did all I could.”. A fine man, I had thought him. Bullshit. Become a Saturday Evening Post member and enjoy unlimited access. 747 Gods Mill grinds slow, but sure. All in a silence that was deadly. “It would have been in time, even then,” she said. “There is no doubt he lied to you.”. Nov. 18.—The next day, in searching the woods, I found a tree of that wood, or like it, which in the Brazils they call the iron-tree, for its exceeding hardness. “A fine boy, man! “If there is any spine in him he will lay the thing to you as a theft,” I suggested. hazen, i asked, are you going to town today yes, yes, he Your IP: When he loaned them money, they never got out of debt. Published on September 13, 1919. The mare gave a frightened start, but Hazen had held the reins and the whip so that she could not break away. Absolutely. “A fine boy, sir! The vast hills in their snowy garments looked down upon the land, upon the house of Hazen Kinch. When we took the road the mare was limping. Il est généralement placé après le nom et s'accorde avec le nom (ex : un ballon bleu, une balle bleue). They Grind Exceeding Small.Ben Ames Williams.AudiobookReader: David WalesSource: Pshaw!” Hazen laughed again. Definitions by the largest Idiom Dictionary. ", výslovnost, dílčí slova, podobné fráze The glare of the sun upon the snow was almost unbearable. “I ‘lowed I might have dropped it here.” Hazen frowned. Also, he was deformed — a twisted leg: The women of the neighborhood sometimes said he would be better dead. Why do you say it will snow?”. Subscribe Today. I looked at the house and at him, and he clucked to the mare and we dipped down into the steep valley below the hill. SUPPORT THE POST. It was as though he controlled a desire to smile. Recommended. Even in his slow shuffle there was a hint of trembling eagerness to escape. I didn’t so much differ as explore and expand. “I’ll not have it snowing,” he said. I do not know what he meant to say. He told me the 11.50 was all he had.”, “Yes,” I agreed. In those rivers of blood in those days, and the decade leading up to that, everyone dipped their hands in. I understood in that moment the working of the mills. “No, Mr. Kinch. Who said "the wheels of god grind slowly but they grind exceeding small"? Sometimes I wondered whether Hazen Kinch suspected this attitude on my part. “Do I look like so much of a fool?”. Free Essays on They Grind Exceeding Small. A man who had ventured to stock one of the lower islands with foxes for the sake of their fur, counting on the water to hold them prisoners, had gone bankrupt when his stock in trade escaped across the ice. • “I went for help — to Anne Marshey. The countryside said he had taken her in payment of a bad debt. Subscribe now. When he came to the table in front of Hazen he took off his thick gloves. By DANIEL DE LEON HOUGH tardily and imperfectly, justice is at last done to the martyrs of Chicago. “I’ll be down in 10 minutes,” I promised him; and I went to pull on my Pontiacs and heavy half boots over them and started downhill through the sandy snow. Interpretation Translation  mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small. I have sometimes thought the gray devils must have left just such hate-bred babes as this in France. I left him a little later and went out into the street. This time she was able to speak. Some 1,600 years ago the Greek philosopher Sextus Empiricus wrote: 'The mills of the gods grind slowly, but they grind small.' You know I asked you to get the medicine — ipecac. "They Grind Exceedingly Small" was used as the title of a short story by Ben Ames Williams publishing in the Saturday Evening Post in 1919. I knew Marshey. He put a pathetic trust in that safe. “It wa’n’t mine.”, Hazen Kinch exclaimed: “By God, I believe you’re accusing me!”. I had given some thought to Hazen in the past. I know, Mr. Kinch. Buy Now. That such a man should live and grow great and prosper was not fitting; in a well-regulated world it could not be. The room was also air-tight. Therefore I watched him. I could see that the man was stiff with the cold. When the door opened we saw who it was. “All right,” he said. Performance & security by Cloudflare, Please complete the security check to access. Shut the door! Then he turned and shuffled across the room and out into the hall and we heard him descending the stairs. She was bleak as cold iron and she was somehow strong. The people of the town feared and hated him. Come! “I’ve a matter of business,” I suggested. I knew now that a just and brooding God dwelt among these hills. Then he sat still and watched the door. or some early holy text. She stood still, quivering, and he wrenched at her ear again. The child was on the floor. This was no new matter of thought with me. “The wire is down.”, “You wanted to telephone home that you — ”, “I can’t get home tonight. They say the road’s impassable.”. I have said there was not another within 40 miles whom he would have given a lift to town; I doubt if there was another man anywhere for whom he would have done this small favor. He was, it seemed to me, a problem in fundamental ethics; he was, as matters stood, a demonstration of the essential unrightness of things as they are. I cain’t pay it all.”, Kinch exclaimed impatiently: “An old story! Some of these cookies are essential to the operation of the site, while others help to improve your experience by providing insights into how the site is being used. She looked toward the bed and Hazen looked that way; and then he went across to the bed with uncertain little steps. Thank you for keeping this up. When he laughed, which was not often, what came out was a cackle. That which had brought me to town was not engrossing. We drove on and the mare was lame. Green and blue and black and white, indescribably brilliant. The Saturday Evening Post is a nonprofit organization funded primarily by our members. “Snow!” he exclaimed. But you mind me, Doan Marshey, you get the rest before the month’s out. He put the child down on the floor again and he said to the woman curtly: “Tend him well.” She nodded. The tumbled coverings, the crushed pillows spoke mutely of a ferocious intensity of grief. Every Congressman who led the mobs was known as a Sanjay Gandhi henchman in earlier days. Join. Subscribe now.